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uhohnotthisagain · 2 months

Text

Admiring Dean - Headcannon

Dean's turn!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Dean being cute and soft, mentions of post sex, mentions of fighting, vampires, no swearing.

My masterlist

Whilst doing research:

The three of you; Sam, Dean and you, had been researching for hours.

Because the bunker didn't have any windows, it was difficult to tell the time of day.

You glanced at the little clock in the corner of your laptop screen, realising it was nearing 2 a.m.

Raising your arms above your head, you let out a yawn before collapsing in your chair. You look over at Dean, taking note of his furrowed brows as he concentrates on what he’s looking at on his laptop.

You glance around him, noting the food wrappers and empty beer bottles, similar to your area at the table.

For once, Sam was falling asleep at the desk, having grown too tired to keep researching despite the numerous cups of coffee. “Guys, I’m calling it a night.” He slams his computer shut and stands up, half-heartedly waving goodnight.

Dean looks towards you, raising his eyebrows at you. “You ready to hit the hay too?”

You smile at him, nodding your head.

He stands up after shutting his laptop, walking over to your side of the table. He’s wearing your favourite red flannel, sleeves rolled up, jeans and boots. The best combination.

You look up at him, taking his hand that he had out to offer and follow him to your shared bedroom. As you get ready, you take glances to peak at him, enjoying the view of his torso as he strips out of his flannel and into a t-shirt to sleep in.

You climb into bed, Dean climbing in on his own side. He reaches over you, hand on your waist, pressing a quick but passionate kiss to your lips.

“You know, you can always take a picture, I won’t mind.” He says with a wink.

A blush creeps up to your cheeks, a small smile presenting itself.

“Sorry, can’t help myself sometimes. You’re irresistible.”

“Am I now? Would you like to show me how irresistible I am?” He raises a brow.

“Oh absolutely.” You reply, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him down back to your lips.

In bed:

Dean was panting, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He only had the thin motel sheet covering his otherwise naked body.

You had just gone to the bathroom, having just finished up and walking back out to rejoin him.

His muscular torso was raising up and down with his breathing, his arms above his head, accentuating his biceps.

He looks over towards you as you crawl back into bed, reaching out for you to lay on his chest.

You stare up at him, brushing your hands through his hair. It was already messy, having run your fingers through it not 10 minutes ago.

“I love you.” You whisper.

He angles himself to be able to get a better look at you. “I love you. So much.”

He presses a kiss to your lips. Different from before. Before was filled with passion. Need. This one was filled with love. Happiness. Contentment.

Everything about Dean felt right. He was perfect.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling the sheet up over you, making sure you were covered and not too cold.

The two of you get more comfortable, facing each other, arms wrapped around waists, falling asleep not long after.

When he’s asleep:

It was most mornings when you woke up before Dean.

It was your favourite way to start the day.

You opened your eyes, having woken up to the sun blaring through the window.

You roll over to find Dean still asleep next to you.

He had one arm under the pillow, most likely holding onto the gun hidden under there. The other was stretched over the bed towards you, unconsciously reaching out for you.

Your eyes mapped out his face, taking note of the freckles that dotted over his face, eyelashes that you envied lying on his upper cheek.

His breathing was even, looking ever so peaceful as he slept.

It had been a while since he had nightmares, stopping when the two of you started dating and sleeping in the same bed. You were glad that there was something you could do that would allow him to have much deserved moment of peace.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Dean mumbled.

You smile as he peaks one eye open.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“7:30.”

“Nope, we’re going back to sleep.” He pulls you to him by your waist, holding you there so you couldn’t escape.

“Dean, we have to get up. We need to be in Portland in two days. Come on.”

Dean groans, releasing you from his warm entrapment.

As you get up to go to the bathroom, you take him in one last time.

He furrows his brow as a flash goes off, opening his eyes to see your phone pointing at him.

“Oops, forgot to turn the flash off.”

He jumps up just as you start running to the bathroom, making it just in time to close the door before he can get you.

“You’ll pay for that one, Sweetheart!” You hear.

You giggle as you turn the shower on, smiling at the picture you took of Dean.

When he saves you:

It was vampires. They were everywhere.

There were more than you three had expected but you still charged in, slicing the heads off of the ones that charged at you.

You had easily killed 15 each, but there were still more.

You were starting to feel the fatigue of fighting furiously for the last half an hour, but you kept powering through.

The grunts of Sam and Dean fighting could be heard in the background, which you used as fuel to keep going and not worry about them.

When you thought you had gotten them all, you breathed a sigh of relief. You went searching for Dean and Sam, when another vampire came running at you from behind.

You barely had time to scream, as the vampire grabbed you from behind, throwing you on the ground.

You grunted as you hit the floor, rolling to get back up when the vampire climbed on top of you, fangs out ready to pierce your skin.

She leaned down, her face quickly turning from anger to fear and shock. She fell off of you to the side, a knife sticking out of her back.

Dean was standing behind her, holding a jar full of dead man’s blood. “Had to put this dead guy to use, hey?”

You let out a sigh of relief, letting Dean help you up. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, you?” You respond with a nod.

“Yeah.”

Dean leads you out to the Impala, where Sam is waiting.

He squeezes your hand, opening the passenger door for you.

“Am I not sitting in the back?” You ask.

“Nah, Sammy can sit in the back for once. You’re sitting with me.” Dean respond. You look at Sam, silently asking for reassurance.

He nods in return, giving you a smile before climbing into the backseat.

You climb in, Dean closing the door and walking around to get into the driver's seat.

As he drives off, you move closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, getting comfortable as you set off for the nearest motel.

#supernatural imagines #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester imagines #spn #sam winchester #dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester headcannon #headcannon

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candycandy00 · 10 days

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Smut. 18+. Toji x Fem Reader. Rough sex. Virgin reader. Size difference. Breeding. Monster fucking. Non-con! Dividers by @benkeibear!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback whatsoever would be adored! For @idk1375.

When you heard the rumors of a werewolf stalking the woods in the next town over, you figured it would be a great topic for your supernatural themed podcast. So you packed up your gear and headed on over. You put a post on a local forum asking for a guide to take you into the forest, explaining that you were investigating the werewolf rumors, and a man named Toji volunteered. He didn’t even ask to be paid.

So now you find yourself standing in front of the man as he introduces himself. The first thing you notice is that he’s huge, so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to look up at his face. He’s ruggedly handsome, with dark hair and the kind of physique men spend years in the gym trying to obtain. All of this combined with his deep voice makes him the kind of man you want to call “Daddy”.

You follow him into the woods, thinking to yourself that he could probably fight off a werewolf with his bare hands. He makes friendly conversation along the way, telling you about some of the rumors you’ve heard, but seeming to have more information about each incident than you read online. Probably because he’s a local.

He leads you so deeply into the forest that the sun is almost completely blotted out by the trees, making it seem much later and darker than it actually is. It looks like night has fallen, though you know it’s only the afternoon.

Toji stops in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by towering trees, and turns to look at you.

“This is the werewolf’s favorite spot to take his victims and feed,” he tells you, a lazy smile on his lips.

Huh? How does he know that? Wait…

You turn to run back out the way you came, not wanting to wait and find out if your terrible assumption is correct. Either he’s a serial killer pretending to be a werewolf, or…

An ear splitting howl assaults your ears as you reach the tree line, and you hear the sound of fabric ripping. You can’t resist. Two years of running a podcast dedicated to exactly this sort of thing has made you too curious, so you find yourself looking back, even though the logical part of your brain is telling you not to.

Charging straight for you is Toji, his shirt completely ripped off and his pants shredded. He’s at least nine feet tall now, and the outer edges of his body are covered in a thin layer of black shiny fur. His chest and abdomen, trailing down until his pants cover the rest, are bare, like the reverse of a normal hairy man.

He catches you in an instant, forcing you to the forest floor on your back, the claws on his hands digging into your shoulders and drawing blood. He leans over you, and you can see that his face has remained nearly unchanged, except for glowing red eyes and a full set of razor sharp teeth.

“You were lookin’ for a werewolf,” he says, his voice even deeper than before, “well you found one, girlie!”

You shriek in terror, thrashing about wildly beneath him. But it’s no use. He’s far too big, too heavy, too strong, for you to budge even an inch.

“Please don’t kill me!” you cry pitifully, tears streaming down your face as your body goes limp.

He grins, showing off his teeth. “Now why would I do that to a cute little thing like you?”

With that, he rips off your T-shirt with one swipe, as if it’s made of tissue paper. Next go your shorts, and even your panties, leaving you stunned and completely exposed.

You scream again, clamping your legs shut, a renewed vigor in your struggle as you realize what he intends to do.

“I could smell it on you the moment we met,” he says, pinning your bare arms above your head. “You’re untouched by a man.”

You freeze, your eyes widening and your skin burning with embarrassment. He knows you’re a virgin, from scent alone?

He draws back slightly and lets his red eyes roam over your nude body, settling on the spot you’re trying to hard to protect with your pressed thighs.

“I could smell something else too,” he adds, a low rumbling chuckle escaping his wide mouth.

He leaves one large hand to hold your wrists together, and lets the other slide down, effortlessly parting your thighs despite your best efforts to keep them closed. You flinch as you feel a clawed finger glide up your slit, then he holds the finger up so that you can see the sticky, glistening fluid dripping off it.

“I could smell this.”

You close your eyes and turn your face away, too humiliated and horrified to look at him. But he grips your face and turns it back to him. “Don’t go closin’ your eyes, girlie. You’ll wanna see what’s coming.”

You open your eyes and watch, petrified, as he rips the shredded remains of his pants off. And there, between his muscular, fur-covered legs, is a gigantic erection. You’ve heard the term “monster cock” before, but you never imagined even a real, literal monster cock would be this huge. You scream, trying again to close your legs, but he’s already positioned himself between them.

“Please, no! That thing will kill me!”

He leans his face down close to yours. “I think you can take it,” he says. Then he closes his mouth over yours, plunging his tongue into you, just as he shoves his entire, giant cock into your virgin pussy.

You scream into his mouth, the sound muffled by his lips, as your body jerks with pain. He gives a few deep, ripping thrusts before he breaks the kiss, grinning down at your sobbing face. “Don’t pass out,” he tells you as your vision starts to go fuzzy. He releases your wrists, knowing there’s nothing you can do regardless, and slowly rakes his claws down your chest. It’s not enough pressure to draw blood, but enough to make you snap to attention at the possibility.

He fucks into you, so hard and deep that you have no idea how you’re still alive and not bleeding out. He watches your face, making sure you’re awake and aware, eventually moving one hand down to where your bodies meet. Again, you feel a clawed finger in your slick folds, but this time he finds your clit, stroking it and then gently scraping his claw across it.

You jolt, the unexpected pleasure hitting you like a truck. And then his mouth is on yours again, absorbing the pitiful moans you can’t suppress.

When you cum, even you are shocked, staring up at him with a stunned, tear-streaked face as your body trembles.

He laughs again. “Look at you! Cummin’ on my cock even though it’s your first time gettin’ fucked! This little pussy feels so good, I might just put a pup in you!”

You shake your head frantically. “No no no!”

But it’s too late. He shoves in as deeply as he can, and you feel his thick, hot cum filling your womb all the way up.

He stays that way, buried completely inside you, until he’s sure he’s emptied himself. Then he pulls out. You look down, see that his cock is covered in blood and cum, and you fall back against the ground, exhausted.

He stands up, and as he does so, reverts to his handsome human form. “If you survive, I’m gonna make you my bride,” he says. You don’t have the energy to respond. He bends down and picks your sore, twitching body up from the ground. “But first, let me take you back to my place and lick your wounds.”

Heat floods your face at those words. You reflexively curl against his strong chest, wondering if you’re now living a nightmare, or a dream.

#toji x reader #Toji #fushiguro toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader #candys2kevent

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spideystevie · 1 year

Note

💘 and hangman with "can... can you hold me? please?"

THANK YOU MY LOVE

hi ended up turning this into a little roommates situation because i simply couldn’t resist and i can’t be stopped! also v excited with how this one turned out hehehe enjoy my love <3 - [1k] | join the party!

There were perks to having a roommate, though you’re not sure Jake would’ve been your first choice. On paper, he’s the ideal choice. He cleans up after himself. He cooks dinner for you, helps you clean. He kills the spiders.

Despite all of that, he could be unbelievably insufferable. He was cocky and almost too sure of himself. Full of snark and the offhanded, borderline flirtatious comment. He drove you insane, in ways you couldn’t tell were good or just plain irritating.

It’s cheaper rent, you have to remind yourself when his stubbornness causes a minor spat. It’s only temporary, you say under your breath when he catches you staring at his chest for a second too long one morning and makes a stupid comment about it.

As much as he drove you insane, you had to admit–to yourself, of course–that it was nice to have him around. He was easy to talk to and he made you laugh. He always makes you call him to pick you up just so he knows you get home safe. Plus, it was nice knowing he was across the hall at night when you go to sleep in case something were to go wrong.

You wonder if tonight is one of those cases.

It’s not like you were in any sort of trouble. Not physically at least. You’d had a nightmare, one that left you a little breathless when you woke up. Your mind hadn’t stopped reeling, your thoughts on a downward anxious spiral.

You feel a little silly as you stare at your ceiling, wondering if he’d let you sleep with him tonight. Just so you felt safe. You chew on your lower lip for a beat, letting your mind debate the idea for a while hoping that alone will put you back to sleep. Luck isn’t on your side.

With a quiet huff, you slip out of bed and pad across your room to your door. His bedroom door is only five steps across the hall from yours. You feel like a little kid again telling your mom you couldn't sleep as you raise your hand to knock.

Your knuckles rap against the wood twice and you wrap your arms around yourself as you wait. The seconds stretch together and just when you’re about to say fuck it and go back to your own room, his door swings open. Your eyes blink up at him a little wide, part of you surprised he opened the door.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice gravelly from sleep. His slight accent seems to come through that much more too. You swallow, his voice combined with his messy hair and the black t-shirt he’s wearing along with those pajama pants makes you feel a little flustered.

You realize he’s waiting for an answer and clear your throat. He takes in the way you’re shifting on your feet, the way you’re almost hunched in on yourself.

“I, um…I couldn’t sleep,” you say. Your gaze drops to the floor, voice coming out timid and quiet when you say, “Had a bad nightmare.”

You hear him sigh and you fully anticipate him to send you back to your room. Instead, he wraps a hand around one of your arms and tugs you inside his room. “C’mere.”

There’s a burning spot on your arm in the shape of his hand when he lets go once you’re inside. He closes the door and makes his way back to the side of his bed he’d been sleeping on. Jake looks at you and furrows his eyebrows when he notices you haven’t moved.

“You gonna get in bed? I don’t bite,” he hesitates like he’s going to add something to it, something that would definitely make you want to scoff but he decides against it. You make your way over to the other side of the bed and pull back the covers.

The first thing you notice is how warm his bed is. You sink into the sheets easily, holding back a sigh from how cozy it feels beneath his sheets. All of it smells like him, not too overwhelming but enough to make you aware of it. You find that you think you like it.

There’s a shuffling of bedsheets as he gets comfortable again. You lie on your back, staring up at the ceiling and willing yourself to fall asleep. His breathing has started to even out and you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. Must be nice.

“Jake?” you’re not sure if he can hear you with how quiet you sound. You hear the sheets rustle like he’s turning over to look at you through the dark.

“Yeah?” his voice sounds deeper in a whisper. You swallow, pushing down nerves though they just keep rising to the top.

“Can…can you hold me?” you whisper, shifting against the sheets. “Please?”

For a second, there’s no response and a trail of curses makes its way across your mind. You almost open your mouth to tell him to forget you said anything when you feel his chest against your arm. His arm comes around your middle and you adjust so you’re on your side, your chests almost touching.

Your head finds a home beneath his chin, your lips against the collar of his shirt. His other arm slides beneath your body and you worry it might fall asleep sometime in the night. The thought gets snuffed out when his hand rubs against the length of your back.

“This okay?” he asks. You let out a breath, nodding once.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Thank you.”

He hums in response. His hand continues to rub your back, the action soothing you until your body feels limp with relaxation. Your blinks get heavier, longer with each stroke of his hand. You let your body sink against his the most it can, your eyes finally fluttering shut and your breath evening out.

It’s your little secret that that’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in months when you wake up in the morning, legs tangled with his and your chin tucked against his chest.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin fluff #hangman fluff #jake seresin blurb #hangman blurb #📝: a writes!#allie's valentine's house party <3 #allie's vday party blurbs!

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bidisasterevankinard · 5 months

Note

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around?”

“Is this… turning you on?”

If it inspires ♥️

I combined it and here have this hot thing love <3333 NSFW-ish. I think about continue to make it E rating and post whole thing on ao3 then, so let me know if you want more

prompts

In Buck's defense, it wasn't his idea to buy panties, but Chim's. Years and years ago, during Buck's probie year. They were drunk and Chim dared him to do it. Buck did. Then came home, put them between boxers he didn't wear much and forgot about them. He couldn't throw them away because they're expensive and pretty panties. And that's how these panties lived the last six years. They were moved in that exact stack of clothes, which Buck didn't want to sort when he moved to the loft. He just put it on the top shelf and forgot about it.Right till that moment.

He is alone in the loft, sorting his things between boxes to decide what he will move to the Diaz house. And what he will throw away or donate, because it's finally time to get rid of the clothes he would never wear again.

That's how he found these lace black panties. And if the boxers should go to trash because his size is bigger now, the panties on other hand look like they can fit him.

Buck in his life tried a lot of things, even crazier than wearing some panties. Just last night Eddie tied him up to their bed and made sure that it is hard for Buck to move today, especially bend, without remembering how good his fiance railed him. Trying some panties shouldn't feel so exciting and thrilling, and a little bit forbidden, like something he shouldn't desire. Except that Buck feels all this mix of different emotions like that and he wants to sense the lace around him.

He slips out of his sweatpants and boxers, but leaves the shirt. It is like a shield from feeling like he does something wrong. The lace fits him like a second skin, highlighting his cock and how pale he is. But that makes Buck feel good about them, it's how he looks like something precious and cute. Not like a 6 '2 guy, but like something that needs to be handled very gently, like a porcelain vase that is so easy to break with a careless movement. Buck feels good. He feels pretty.

Admiring himself from different angles in the big mirror, still not daring to leave himself only in black lace, he doesn't hear how he is not alone anymore.

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around?” Eddie's voice scares Buck and he rushes to cover himself, tugging on his shirt hard.

“I saw you naked, mi amor. No need to cover this ass or cock from me,” Eddie licks his lips not taking his eyes from his bottom. Even if Buck tries hard to hide himself, he still knows Eddie can see quite enough. “Especially when they are wrapped in such a beautiful package. Like a beautiful present.”

Buck doesn’t know what to say. He opens and closes his mouth for seconds till his eyes catch the lines of Eddie’s cock in his sweatpants. Catching the way where Buck looks, Eddie puts his hand pulling on his pants so that the line of his half hard cock is seen better.

“Is this … turning you on?”

His fiance comes close, putting his big warm hands on his t-shirt, lifting it up till he can take it off from his body, stopping to ask Buck with his big caring eyes if it is OK, not moving till he sees the nod. Eddie leaves him almost naked in his almost empty loft.

“How can it not? My future husband looks like a fucking model, meeting me in these cute lace,” big hands holds him by the waist, bringing Buck close to his body. Their cocks touch and they both moan. “You look so beautiful Buck,” Eddie murmurs and kisses his neck. “Do you like the way you look? Or should I leave to let you put your clothes on?” warm chocolate meets his sky and Buck one more time falls even more in love with this perfect caring man.

“I think I look pretty. I-I feel good. Really good,” Buck whispers, still feeling guilty to admit how he loves it, even if he knows Eddie loves it too.

“Do you want me to make it better?” Eddie traces his long soft fingers over the lace till he touches his hard cock, smirking when he feels a wet spot.

“Yes, please,” Buck gasps as Eddie speeds up his movements, passing the lace over his tender skin. “But we-we moved the bed already,” despite his words Buck just let Eddie leave more hickeys on his skin.

“You still have a kitchen counter. I haven't bent you near it for months,” Eddie kisses him, biting his lip. “What do you think, cowboy?”

Buck smirks remembering why Eddie calls him cowboy. Sue him for telling his “just best friend” he always liked to ride a man anytime he had a chance. He wanted to drive Eddie crazy with this idea. He succeeded even if they still had a crooked path after Buck's confession. Eddie their first time admitted that he called him cowboy several times to hint he wants Buck to ride him.

He licks his lips, acting like he thinks about it, taking the clothes from the body he needs to see naked. The way Eddie looks at him when he kneels to take his sweats off intoxicates him as well as the musky scent.

Touching beautiful abs, Buck kisses his man again before breathing into his lips.

“Yeah, not a bad idea, but what about me riding you on the balcony? These panties allowed it,” Buck puts Eddie’s hand on his bare ass. “And I found my cowboy hat,” Buck nods towards the hat. “Should I wear it or -”

Buck’s question is interrupted by Eddie’s lips and the body pining him to the wall. Grinding their cocks, they kiss till Buck is ready to hit Eddie’s hip to have a chance to breathe, but Eddie ends the kiss right at that moment, leaving Buck alone near the wall. He takes the hat and comes back, putting the hat on Buck’s head.

“ Are you ready for the ride, cowboy?”

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #my fics #ficlet #evan buck buckley #buck buckley #buck x eddie #911 on abc #911 abc

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miasmaghoul · 1 year

Note

what about

nsfw

rain

all by himself

huh

jusy saying

Did someone say transmasc Rain with a breeding kink?

(It was me, I said transmasc Rain with a breeding kink.)

Rain sighs as he shuts the hotel room door, tossing his suitcase on the bed and flopping down next to it. He scrubs at his face with both hands.

It's been a long day, but not an eventful one. Copia had chosen himself and Cirrus to accompany him on this trip, this week long excursion to attend a series of press conferences. To expand the church's reach, Sister Imperator had said. The ghoul were really only needed for the sake of appearances. Not that he really minded; it was nice to get away from the abbey for a bit, to have a change of scenery.

But the nine hour drive to...wherever it is they are now had been tiring. Rain had tried to sleep, Cirrus had tried to read, but Copia had insisted on talking for nearly their entire trip. As much as he loves the Cardinal, Rain thinks if he never has to hear the man's voice again it'll be a blessing. He's impossibly grateful that they all have their own rooms, the silence is golden.

Rain lets himself enjoy it for a long while, basking in nothing but the hum of the air conditioner and the distant drone of traffic. It's soothing, simple white noise that helps to relieve the pressure between his eyes. It's late in the evening and Rain is tempted to simply crash in his clothes, but he knows he'll regret it. He's stiff and sore and the bathtub is calling his name.

He forces himself up after a short while, stretching long arms over his head and letting out a pleased trill when his spine gives a series of pops. Rain clicks on the bedside lamp, taking in the room as he toes off his shoes and shrugs out of his t-shirt. It's nothing fancy; a king size bed with all white linens and too many pillows. Pale blue walls and gray carpet. A low chair with a chest of drawers beside it, a flat screen tv perched on top of them. Standard, but comfortable.

Rain grabs his suitcase, on the hunt for his pajama pants and baggie of toiletries. Hotel shampoo always dries out his hair in a way he can't stand. Dewdrop calls him a princess for it, as though the fire ghoul didn't have a twelve step haircare routine himself. Rain unzips the case and flips the lid.

On top of his clothes sits a small drawstring bag he doesn't recognize, beige canvas. Rain raises an eyebrow as he picks it up, weighing the bag in his hands - not too heavy, whatever it is. Beneath it is a piece of paper, and Rain sets the bag aside. He unfolds the paper and smirks.

In case you miss me.

He'd recognize Swiss's scratchy lettering anywhere, even if the note wasn't decorated with little drawings of hearts and dicks. Rain tosses it on the nightstand and retrieves the bag, pulling it open and dumping the contents on the bed. He snorts.

It's a dildo. Of course it's a dildo. But it's different that the ones he has in his nightstand back at the abbey. Aside from the coloring - sapphire blue marbled with metallic gold, a surprisingly striking combination - it looks, somehow, just like Swiss. Not too long but nice and thick, complete with a fat knot that has Rain's mouth watering.

Suddenly, he isn't quite so tired.

He shoves his jeans and boxers off while he stares at the toy, tilting his head. He thinks about texting Swiss. About asking how he managed to find a piece of silicone that looks exactly like his ridiculously perfect cock. It's a question worth asking, certainly, but the sudden tingling between his legs tells him it can wait.

Rain picks it up as he slides onto the bed, settling against the cool covers and the wall of pillows. It even feels like Swiss, somehow. He squeezes the knot and imagines the sound Swiss would make - a tight groan, one that is permanently etched into Rain's mind. He's heard it so many times, how could it not be? That tingle graduates to a dull ache when Rain brings the toy to his mouth, licking up the length of it. He slides it between his lips and the astoundingly familiar weight of it on his tongue has him groaning.

His free hand skates across his chest, callused fingers catching on soft skin. Rain pinches a nipple as he starts to suck, swirling his tongue over the slightly pointed tip. Just like Swiss's. He's fucking his own mouth in no time, a slow in-an-out that he's intimately familiar with. His other hand travels south while he does, tracing lean muscle and slipping through soft curls. Rain groans around the dildo when he grazes his clit, already stiff and throbbing.

"Fuck, Swiss," he sighs, rubbing slow circles and giving the toy another long lick, "love your cock so much."

It's something he'd never say to the other ghoul, lest his already massive ego inflate even further, but here?

"Feels so good in my mouth," he breathes, sucking at the knot and playing those wonderful sounds back in his head, "gets me so fucking wet, every time."

Rain's fingers slides from him clit, down through his already slick folds. So much wetter than he should be after so little time, but that's always how it goes with Swiss. Rain gasps as he traces silky lips, teasing his entrance. He can't stop running his tongue over the toy's knot, mouthing at it as he slips a finger inside with a soft moan.

"Gonna knot me tonight?" He's panting already. "Yeah, I think you are. Think you're gonna get me all stretched out." Rain adds a second finger - he's already soaked, and the direction his thoughts are going only make it worse. "Get me stuck on it and fill me up, fuck."

Rain moans low in his throat as he crooks his fingers just so, hips rolling when he hits that one perfect spot. The heel of his hand works his clit as he stretches himself, quick and sloppy. Impatient. He's wet to his thighs now, probably dripping onto the bedding. He imagines Swiss's face buried between his legs, lapping at him with that impossibly skilled tongue.

"Shit, fuck," Rain moves his slick fingers back to stroke his clit, "inside, inside, need it."

He should probably feel a little silly begging into an empty room. But when he glides the toy through his folds to get it all wet, when he presses the head into his hungry cunt - all he can do is feel.

Rain isn't slow about it. He can't be, because Swiss wouldn't be. Not in the memory he's reliving. No, this requires a desperate, frantic pace. Deep, rough thrusts that hit all the best spots deep inside him. Rain closes his eyes and pictures Swiss over him - one hand on Rain's lower back, the other on the back of his neck, foreheads pressed together with Rain's legs around his waist. No words spoken, just harsh breathing, the sound of skin on skin and Rain's needy whines at each thrust.

"Swiss, fuck, oh Lucifer." Rain's fingers fly over his swollen clit as he fucks himself hard and fast. Every bump of the knot has him yipping, rocking his hips to meet his own movements. The tangle of arousal in his gut is volcano hot and unfurling fast; all he can see and feel is Swiss, and the cresting wave of pleasure inside him has Rain crying out. "Right there, right there, fuck yes!"

He's so close he could cry, shaking head to toe as he grits his teeth. But he can't cum like this, not tonight. No, tonight he needs -

"Give it to me, Swiss," he pants, thighs trembling, "give me your fucking knot, I need it, I -" Rain moans, high and feminine, arching off the mattress. "Fuck, fill me up, do it."

He's right there, he's right fucking there and his mind and body are filled with nothing but Swiss.

"Breed me!"

Rain cums hard, colors blooming behind his eyelids as he shoves Swiss's knot inside with a strangled sob. It's so close to the real thing he can't wrap his mind around it - can't believe that the image of Swiss's pained face and those choked cries are only in his head. The knot stretches him so wonderfully, the rhythmic clench of his cunt sending wracking shivers through every inch of his quivering body.

It takes ages for Rain to come down, twitching from head to toe as he tries to remember how to breathe. He's sweaty and boneless, his nerves are shot and his head is filled with static. The only thing missing is the heavy press of Swiss's body over his own, the scratch of stubble against his throat. Rain drags shaking fingers through his hair and imagines that's Swiss too.

Eventually he falls back into his own body, so loose and sated that he can barely make himself move. Rain manages to grab his phone off the nightstand, blinking blearily at the screen. His head is still delightfully fuzzy, a cum-drunk grin plastered on his face as he pulls up his texts.

R: hey

S: Hey Rainbow. You make it to the hotel?

R: mmhmm

R: found my present too

S: Ha, surprise! You like it?

Rain considers his options. He could tease, say it's better than the real thing. Or he could say it was ridiculous, that it's almost funny how Swiss is so impossibly full of himself. Or...

Rain cants his hips, spreads himself open and snaps a picture of where he's still stretched around that knot.

R: what do you think?

The phone rings almost immediately, and Rain laughs.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #though this is basically a full fic lmao #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul (in spirit)#transmasc rain #im not projecting youre projecting

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 1 year

Note

Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are well, I would like to do a FGO commission, Headcannons for Morgan Le Fay, Baobhan Sith, Mélusine and Barghest in love with Reader (Master) I would really like to see this, please let me know if you can or not, it's ok if you can't , thank you 😊

Your Wish Is My Command!

(My first Fate request, I had a lot of fun with this! Especially Barghest, but that’s probably because she’s my favorite! Sorry if it’s shorter than you were expecting or if a lot of it doesn’t make sense. My allergies have been kicking my ass and I had to take one of those pills that knock you out harder than Mike Tyson when I wrote this!)

Morgan Le Fay

Morgan has the type of style that could only be defined as “Extravagantly Simplistic”

If you don’t understand what I mean by this just look at her dress.

This same style and poise carries over into the relationship you two share.

It doesn’t matter if it’s sleeping or fighting she always keeps a certain elegance about her no matter what.

But this doesn’t mean she’s cold, in fact it’s quite the opposite, she is a very warm hearted person especially with you.

All of that said, do be careful whenever you hear her reciting something under her breath in the Fae tongues, it could be anything from a curse to a shopping list, or both!

Morgan is definitely the small spoon, in pretty much everything when she’s with you but she doesn’t mind being the big spoon every now and then.

She’s probably very violently dismembered someone after they insulted you then asked if you wanted ice cream with a smile.

All in All Morgan is a very kind and giddy significant other unless you are put in the crosshairs of something which in that case… well just pray she doesn’t torture it for to long.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“OH! Hello there my spouse! I’m glad to see your wounds have healed!” a blood drenched Morgan happily exclaimed as she kicked a flayed arm into a magical fire.

You simply gazed at the fire and asked “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that was the guy who got the jump on me?” plainly, completely used to Morgan’s overprotective nature.

Morgan simply smiled and nodded

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Baobhan Sith

Baobhan’s style is simply extravagant, at least until she’s alone but I’ll circle around to that in a bit.

In a LOT of way’s she’s a brattier version of her mother.

Be warned though, she is stubborn and petty! Which is quite the combination!

She definitely strikes me as the type to spend her days off sitting in a too large T-Shirt and shorts eating Ice Cream while watching horror movies alone before she accidentally puts on a soap opera and gets sucked in.

She will not hesitate to roast someone so hard they spontaneously combust.

Baobhan is not someone who likes large gatherings of people so she much prefers quality time with just the two of you though she’d rather die before admitting it.

She Says she's a top, she’s not, she’s a sub, small spoon in everything she couldn’t be the big spoon if she tried.

Baobhan is probably the second most possessive person on this list.

That being said she’s probably the last one to jump to violence, wounds are temporary, the destruction Baobhan can unleash with her words is eternal.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You opened the door to the home that you and Baobhan shared where you immediately tripped over an ice cream carton which was followed by the sound of someone scrambling to change the channel on the TV.

When you walked into the living room you saw Baobhan surrounded by an army of Ice cream cartons with puffy red eye’s

“Were you crying?” You asked.

“nO!” Baobhan lied poorly

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Mélusine

Melusine’s style is quote: “Warm”

Sweaters, pants, jackets, the works.

She’s a very physical person, all about hugs, handholding, and staying together no matter what.

All of that said, she is the second quickest to violence on this list.

She will absolutely NUKE whatever tries to harm you.

Bug?

NUKED!

Rat?

NUKED!

Some random jackass?

NUKED!

Crippling loneliness?

ABSOLUTELY OBLITERATED!!!

Mélusine is the smolest of spoons.

That being said! She will ABSOLUTELY use her size and cute eyes against you!

You have had to stop her from destroying the world on more than one occasion, usually because of traffic.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“So when are you going to be home My Master? The show will be starting soon!” Mélusine asked energetically.

You swallowed deeply as you said “Ah… right about that…” before trailing off.

“Master, think VERY carefully about what you say next.” Mélusine coldly stated.

“I’m caught in traffic” You quickly exclaimed, ripping the bandaid off.

Silence was all you heard before a loud boom

“Mélusine nO-”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Barghest

Barghest’s Style is just cute clothes like sundresses, she also likes to wear earthy colors.

Barghest is pretty awkward, she’s not really sure how to hug or kiss you most of the time mostly because of her size but also because she genuinely loves you and is afraid that she’ll eat you.

Well I say kiss, she licks you but that’s not the point.

Strikes me as the type to just mope around unless the two of you are together or if she’s doing something which usually includes cooking large portions of food, exercising, or watching something that catches her attention which is usually whatever has a catchy tune and some form of well choreographed action.

She loves being the big spoon though she also enjoys being the small spoon on occasion though before the two of you could even get to that point you had to teach her how to cuddle.

Barghest gets jealous pretty easily so watch out for that because that’s usually when she gets possessive and when she gets possessive… Well, I'll let you imagine what happens next (Hint: It involves any form of cushioned space around human size and biting).

She loves cooking, even more so when you’re with her, though be warned her “Normal sized” Portions could feed five men, so you're just going to have to force yourself to eat it.

She’s willing to get into a fight if she has to but she prefers not to.

You constantly have a bite mark on your collar bone, she also licks you on the neck when asked why she does this she gets a possessive and hungry glint in her eyes like she’s daring someone to challenge her and says.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I want every single man, woman, child, non-binary and agender person to know you are mine, Master!”

“Oh, okay!” You quietly squeaked out embarrassed.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

#barghest x reader #melusine x reader #Baobhan sith x reader #Morgan le fay x reader #fgo #Fate #fate grand order

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password-door-lock · 4 months

Text

Saeran takes care in arranging the cheese plate, although he knows he doesn't have much reason to be so meticulous. The two of you are probably going to devour it over the course of the next few minutes— after all, both of your circadian rhythms are severely skewed after last night (or this morning, to be more precise). The RFA party ran late, and then, despite the hour, the other members wanted to spend a bit of quality time together as a group. After that, of course, the pair of you had to make the trek from the party hall in the city to your marital home in the countryside. Saeran drove, and though he assured you that he wouldn't mind it if you fell asleep, you insisted on staying awake with him, playing silly driving games until the two of you were safely in the house. After getting into your respective pajamas and brushing your respective teeth, you and Saeran fell asleep sometime around three in the morning.

The two of you only woke up about an hour ago, ravenous, as anyone would expect, and now, here you are, combining forces to throw together a low-effort lunch. “Honey, if I sliced up an apple, would you eat it?” You ask. You threw on one of Saeran’s sweaters after getting out of bed, but otherwise, you’re still in your pajamas. This makes you look even cuter than you normally would, leaning on the counter and staring contemplatively at a basket of apples.

Saeran regards you fondly. “I think most people just eat apples whole, don’t they, my love?” He can’t help but tease you a little. After all, you’re just so adorable.

“I don't think most people put whole apples on their charcuterie trays,” you grumble, though your eyes shine despite your apparent annoyance. Saeran can tell that you’re just making a production of it, trying to entertain him— and, to your credit, it’s working. “What about tomatoes?”

“Anything is fine,” Saeran assures you, carefully slicing the mild brie that he picked up a few days ago in anticipation of this exact event. After the last RFA party, he learned that neither one of you is really up for cooking a proper meal the next day. “It's like we're having a picnic,” he muses. Granted, it’s the middle of winter, so it won’t be possible to have your lunch outside, but this is the same kind of food that Ray would have prepared if he’d ever been able to set up that picnic he promised you back at Magenta.

You grin. “In our pajamas?”

“Hm.” Saeran looks down at his oversized T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Although he can’t say that this was a factor of his original picnic fantasy, now that he’s actually living it, he is largely unconcerned with what the two of you are wearing. He's happy to be comfortable, after all, and he's even happier to see you equally comfortable. “I guess so.”

“That's a great idea,” you decide, placing a pair of whole apples on the plate with the cherry tomatoes and blueberries, despite your earlier reservations. “I'll go get a blanket. We can eat on the floor.” Now Saeran understands— the ambiance of your indoor picnic is more important to you than the aesthetic quality of the charcuterie board. Truth be told, he can’t help but agree, especially considering how excited you sound.

Saeran returns your grin. There's never a dull moment with you, that's for sure. “I've never had an indoor picnic before.” It's not something that he ever would have thought of before he met you. Honestly, he spent so long daydreaming about that specific picnic in the garden that now, he cannot divorce the idea of a picnic from the image that he created in his mind. He’s glad that you can see the situation from a different angle.

“There's a first time for everything,” you call from the living room, where you are setting up a picnic blanket on top of the rug. “Maybe somebody’ll write a book about us or something.”

“Maybe you're right, my love,” Saeran calls back, carefully arranging the cheese on the plate. “We’re innovators, aren’t we?” As he does every time he takes a moment to reflect, Saeran finds that he feels thankful to be by your side.

#this is short and sweet #work has been kinda hectic lately so I've been prioritizing self care and I haven't had much time to edit/post #but here I am!#for the record this is one of my favorite wintertime daydream scenarios #mystic messenger #mystic messenger drabble #saeran choi #choi saeran

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justhere4kpop · 1 year

Text

~Beautiful Stranger~

Pairing: Yunho x Reader. (The guys are involved at some point too but not romantically.) NonIdol! AU

Description: A lonely perpetually single grad student working at a museum is approached by a handsome man, he looks expensive. Maybe this is your chance to get swept off your feet. Maybe he wants something else.

Warnings: I don't censor myself so I don't censor the characters, so Language warning. Let me know if I missed anything.

taglist: @legohwa, @hwaightme

a/n: Okay! I was originally going to make this a one-shot but I think I have too much storyline in my head to make it that way so Surprise! Series time! I'm really excited about this one so please let me know what you guys think, I'm having so much fun writing it already.

Also yes the Teaser is included at the beginning of the chapter, I added some stuff to it so I just put it in.

w/c: 4258

Chapter One: Handsome Stranger

The blaring sound of my morning alarm disturbs the dreams of a man sweeping me off my feet, his voice no longer sweet as honey but now Kick It by NCT 127. I guess I’m getting introduced to some New Thangs today So it was going to be that kind of day, no school but long hours at work as a gallery attendant but also archivist in training, the latter being an unpaid internship…of course. Yeah, long day. I got up, finally silencing my alarm and pulling myself out of my full sized bed, the only luxury I could afford on my own, to drag myself down the hallway to our shared bathroom and brush my teeth. Let’s hope I’m awake enough to remember not to drink Orange Juice again as I look for breakfast. Now how long until I have to catch my train? And if I miss it how long until the bus? It’s not a terrible walk but I need to eat. Maybe I can get to Uni from here. Why does London have to be so confusing!

I’m not originally from the UK but my parents moved back and forth for a variety of things while I was growing up so it’s like a second home. I came here for my graduate program in Art History and made a few friends…moved in with them and now there’s 5 people in an apartment made for 3. We all go to University College London and live off campus in the cheapest place we could find. I was fortunate enough to get a job and internship at The National Gallery here. I’m lucky and I can pay rent but that’s about it, I’m by no means well off and trust me I could use a few extra of any sort of money.

“You’re up early y/n” William, my flatmate’s boyfriend said passing by the open door.

“Work.” was all I mumbled as I head back to my room to pick out my outfit for the day. I stayed up writing this stupid research paper all night and what do I have to show for it…the not so designer bags under my eyes. Most days are filled with a plethora of alarms going off around the same time, lucky for my flatmates, I’m the only one with work today I guess. Alright, which combination of suit pants, blouse, and jacket am I going to wear today…All Black? All Black. I finished setting everything out before heading downstairs to eat just in case I got something on my shirt again. Last time I decided to make this beautiful breakfast sandwich with a runny egg and it broke onto the bright pink blouse I had picked for the day on the tube going to work, my boss was not happy about the spill. Did I cry, yeah…hey the saying is crying over spilt milk not spilt eggs.

“Oh hi y/n!” my other flatmate's girlfriend Emma cheerily said. “I’m just making Becks some breakfast do you want any?”

“Sure Ems…thanks.” I nodded. If I didn’t have to cook I wasn’t going to complain. Oh that’s the other thing you should know, I’m the only one single in this apartment anymore…or flat. Whatever you want to call it.

The two sleeping while their partners roam around are my best friends for 2 years, Becka (Rebecca) and Liz (Elizabeth), I only use their full names when I’m angry at them, there have been plenty of arguments in the small confinement of our apartment. There’s 2 bedrooms upstairs, one above the living room, one above the downstairs bedroom, the bathroom is in between the two and just up the set of stairs. Downstairs is the living room, and subsequent dining area. Kitchen is just through to the back and off to the right is bedroom number 3. Yes we all share one bathroom, no it’s not as fun as it sounds. I live in the room at the front of the place above the living room. I was going to take the downstairs room because I came home late and didn’t want to wake anyone until Liz and Will got together, when they started dating they went at it like rabbits. Becka offered to switch with me since she was barely home to begin with, she and Emma had just started dating so she was with her a lot, at school doing lengthy research papers, or at her internship at the hospital. Her internship slowed down so she had a lot of time to be home and spend time with the love of her life. They’re cute don’t get me wrong…just unfortunate to be the only one single here.

“Thanks again Ems.” I said cleaning the plate I used as I got up to finally get dressed. “It was really good, Becka is lucky to have you.”

“I certainly am.” said woman came into the room perking up at her partner. “Thank you again love.”

“I’ll be going before that breakfast makes a fast journey back up.” I laughed receiving a towel to the face. I put on the outfit I had picked out, touched up my hair so I didn’t look like I was coming out of bed, and set off for the day. Thankfully I didn’t miss my train so it was only 45 minutes to get to work. I know that sounds like a lot but it’s not so bad when you’re used to it. I get to listen to music and relax a little more before starting a long long day.

The opening of a museum is never exciting, there’s probably 10 maybe 15 guests in the first 3 hours of opening, not much to do, luckily the museum lets me work on my internship first on these long days so I’m not bored out of my mind by the time I’m done. I usually clock in around lunch time finally and sit or stand around for the rest of the day depending on what they want me to do that day.

“Y/n” you’re going to be in Room 43 today.” my boss Henry looked at me.

“Well at least I get to look at some of my favorites today.” I sighed, knowing I was going to be on my feet for the rest of the day was not something to invoke joy. Room 43 on Level 2 had our Van Gogh, Gauguin, and Seurat paintings, most notably Sunflowers by Van Gogh, Van Gogh’s Chair, and Motherhood by Picasso. One of my favorites was-

“A Vase of Flowers, Paul Gauguin,” said the smoothest voice I’ve ever heard. Like butter melting on bread.

“Yes, one of my favorites in the room.” I smiled before turning towards the man. My breath hitched, there before me stood a man about 6 foot 1, dressed in a suit that looks like I don’t know how to pronounce the designers name, oxford shoes, no tie,his nose had a slight point to it, a jawline that looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo, full eyebrows, his eyes soft and warm, finally his black hair. He was perfect, absolutely stunning, I wanted to look at him more than the art around me.

“Can you tell me about it?” he smiled.

“Oh, yes absolutely.” Anything to talk to him. “Painted by Gauguin in 1896, painted with Oil Paints-”

“Ah so it needs something breathable to not ruin the paints?” he smiled. “When transported for cleaning?”

“Yes, since oils are very hard to fix if damaged and excess moisture can ruin them like the whole water and oil thing... So um anyways, Paul Gauguin painted 'A Vase of Flowers' when he arrived in Tahiti for his second stay in 1895. The vase is bursting with exotic flowers including hibiscus, white and yellow frangipani and white tiare. The flowers look as though they are past their best as some blossoms have fallen onto the table. This suggests that Gauguin was not interested in the horticultural detail but instead the decorative shapes and interweaving of colors of the display.”

“Very interesting.” his smile grew. “Sorry one of my friends is very interested in this piece but I never knew what it was painted with.”

“Excuse me ma’am.” an older woman called my attention. “I had a question about this piece.”

“Oh, well I’m glad I could help sir. I’m y/n.” I shook his hand. “Please let me know if you have more questions.I’ll um..be over there” I nodded, giving him time to look at the painting. A handsome stranger interested in learning about one of my favorite pieces…he’s probably married. I’m going to be alone forever.

“Thank you beautiful.” he flashed a smile my way.

The beautiful stranger hung around for quite some time staring at the piece, he even had a notebook where he wrote some notes and made a sketch of the painting. No I wasn’t staring at him…okay maybe I totally was but it’s not everyday you see someone that attractive in here, he was practically an art piece himself. No I wasn’t fantasizing about him taking me away in some fancy car with the engine revving going way to fast down the street to a fancy restaurant where the prices aren’t even on the menu and he tells me not to worry about it and to order what I like, he’d probably call me something cheesy like baby, honey, sweetheart, dear, starlight, honey bun….darling…his. NO! Oh my god you can’t fantasize about that stuff he asked you a question. You really are deprived.

Work was the same as ever after the man left, I was stuck making sure no one touched the art until the museum closed and then I got to go home after clocking out. Back to the happy couples…I put on my earbuds and walked to the station, after staring at someone all day I wasn’t really ready to be reminded I was single forever. Oh well, no choice…maybe I’ll stop and get food and just head up to my room so they won’t notice.

“Hey y/n!” a voice yelled in the tunnel. “Aww hey do you have your earbuds in?” he tapped my shoulder.

“I have mace!” I whipped around feeling someone tap me. Oh. “Wooyoung! Don’t scare me that way!” I hit him gently and took my earbuds out.

“Heading home?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just got off work.”

“I was hoping you were going to say a date,” he sighed.

“Can’t find one. I stare at paintings from the 1800s all day.” I chuckled and nudged him. “Let me know if you find Degas or Van Gogh walking around, I’m pretty sure I know more about them than myself at this point.”

“I’ll be sure to point them your way.” he smiled. “Not even one of your coworkers huh?”

“I went out for drinks a while ago with David but he was so boring, no spice you know. Plus he’s one of those water is too spicy guys.”

“Oh yeah, ew.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just always going to be single. I just want someone…who’s a little interesting you know?”

His eyes lit up, he had heard that sentence a few days ago from someone else, he knew what to do.

“Well maybe I have this friend?” he started.

“Oh god not matchmaker Woo again.” I rolled my eyes as we got on the train.

“Hey look I really thought you two would hit it off.”

“Woo he just wanted to make his ex jealous…and I ended up with a ruined dress and a large bill.”

“I apologized and paid you back for his meal. I’m sorry!”

“I know you did.”

“Okay but seriously, this guy is one of my best friends, he’s got some money, he’s actually single single, like hasn’t had a partner in years single, he likes art, he’s tall, he’s not a scumbag, and he’s interesting. I promise you’ll like him.” he pleaded.

“Woo I just-”

“Pleaseeee just one date and then if you don’t like him you can tell me to fuck off whenever you want, please please please!”

“Okay okay fine…one date. Just…one ok?” I sighed. I trust Wooyoung. I do. He's a good friend, great even…his matchmaking skills are just…hit or miss.

“You won’t regret it, and be sure to thank me at the wedding!” he got up at his stop.

“Woo there won’t-!” the doors closed… “be a wedding.” I groaned. Just what have I gotten myself into.

“Hey sour puss what’s with the face?” Liz asked as I came in.

“Ran into Wooyoung on the train.”

“Oh how’s he doing? Also what did he do, you’re not in a bad mood every time you see him” she smiled. “Will is in the bathroom.” I motioned to head up and stopped at her words

“He begged me to go on a blind date with someone he knows.”

“Oh god because that worked out so well last time.” she smiled.

“What did?” Becka came into the room.

“Woo set y/n up on a blind date…again.” Liz smiled.

“Oh god, you have my number I will come get you.” Becka chuckled.

“He promised it wouldn’t be as bad this time but I don’t know I’m still worried.” I rubbed my arm. “He did apologize for last time but still…that was so bad.”

“Do you know anything about this one?” Liz asked.

“Apparently he’s tall, very single, likes art, and has money?” I said remembering what Wooyoung told me on the train.

“Ooo tall handsome rich single man?” They both chuckled. “How does Wooyoung know someone like that?”

“Beats me honestly, but I said I would try…even though I regret it already.”

“And when is said date?” Becka asked.

“Dunno….he’ll probably text me about it later.” I sighed. “I mean I guess it couldn’t be too bad to try.”

“It’s probably worse to trust Woo than to go on the date.” Liz smiled and Will came down.

“Who’s got a date?” he asked.

“y/n” Liz said and made room on the couch for her boyfriend.

“Oh y/n has a date?” Emma sat next to Becka.

“I’m off to bed, it looks like a date night.” I waved.

No need to be reminded I’m still…very much single.

~~~~~~~~~

“Hyung Hyung Hyungie Hyung-ah Hyunghyunghyung” Wooyoung began annoying the older man at his desk.

“Yes Wooyoung?” Yunho looked up from his computer, blueprints and notes scattered around the desk. “Do you need another reference photo or something?”

“No no that’s fine, it’s all coming together.” Wooyoung brushed the man off. “I found you the perfect date!”

“Woo we’ve talked about this, I don’t date.” he sighed.

“No no listen really, she's perfect for you, she’s single and lives with two other couples so she’s practically begging to get out, she doesn’t ask a lot of questions, she knows a bunch about art and everything.”

“Wouldn’t that make it easier for us to get caught Wooyoung? She could tell fakes from the real ones?”

“Nah her eyesight is too bad for that unless she’s up close and personal. She could help us out with transporting them properly, you know, how to keep them undamaged. Plus she’s really pretty, you’d like her…oh and she’s funny, sarcastic, looks good on your arm at a party.”

“Why don’t you date her then?”

“Oh hyung don’t be silly, you’re the one getting old, you need to settle down, don’t you want to spend time with someone, you know spend some of that money on them, have someone besides us…help relieve some stress?”

“We’re the same age Wooyoung.” he closed his laptop.

“Oh no, my birthday is in November, yours just passed.”

The room got quiet.

“You’re not letting this go until I say yes are you?”

“Oh come on just one date! You’ll like her, I bet you’ll even get married come on! Please please please please please please please please please please please please pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“Okay!!...Okay fine, just one date, and we’re not-” Wooyoung left. “Getting married…”

Yunho couldn’t help but think of the beautiful stranger he met at the museum earlier, he caught her staring a few times but couldn’t bring himself to say more in case she got suspicious, but man did he want to, her smile was infectious, her clothing choices mimicked his own, she knew about the art he wanted…but he’s a criminal, no one would ever want to be with a criminal, it’s not that he can’t do the time he just wouldn’t want to drag someone else into it, although he certainly wouldn’t mind coming out to that beautiful face…if he ever got caught that is, he has no plans on making that a reality.

“One date.” he sighed to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~

I smoothed over the dress I chose for tonight, Wooyoung couldn’t wait to text me and tell me his friend said yes. Why did I bother saying yes this is…no let’s..let’s be hopeful, maybe he’ll be nice, and funny, and hopefully a little good-looking….please Wooyoung…don’t do this to me.

“You look gorgeous y/n!” Emma and Liz squealed, their partners on the couch.

“We definitely won’t be seeing you tonight.” Becka chuckled.

“Oh please I’m definitely not going to sleep with this guy, it’s the first date and it’s a Wooyoung blind date.” I rolled my eyes.

“I mean if he’s lucky we won’t see you tonight.” Liz laughed. “He’ll certainly only have his eyes on you this time.”

“One can hope” I groaned. “I better go, I don't want to show up late.” I grabbed my purse and a long black coat to keep warm. Of course there’s a hole in the pocket…I really need to get this fixed.

“It’s going to be warm out, just forget the coat and get it fixed later.” Liz called out. “Go go! You’ll be late.”

It feels weird to walk around the city in just a dress and heels, I feel a little exposed but it’s not any different from the other people I’ve seen I guess…I made my way to the station to go to the restaurant Wooyoung had picked out, he told me to dress fancy so I got the fanciest dress I could. Black and white, a little lace, elegant but not over the top, stops at the knee, a cute little black heel and my hair pulled up into one of those fancy buns. Hopefully I remembered my glasses this time in my bag.

When Jung Wooyoung says fancy restaurant he wasn’t kidding, I’m pretty sure an appetizer here costs my entire rent, there’s not even prices on the menu how am I supposed to afford-

“Miss y/n?” A voice called. Sounds….familiar?

“Yes?” I turned around and it was the guy from the museum. “Oh hello.” I blushed

“It’s nice to see you again, are you waiting for someone?”

“My um..my friend set me up on this..silly blind date.” I chuckled lightly.

“How funny me too.” he smiled. “I wouldn’t be rude to assume you know a Jung, Wooyoung?”

“That would be the one.” I nodded gently.

“Well how funny would it be if I told you the very person sent me here on a silly blind date as well?”

“Well I suppose that would be…quite nice actually.” I sighed. “Last time I let him talk me into this…it didn’t go well.”

“Ah I know the feeling. She went after her ex after spending 30 minutes with me.” he chuckled.

“Ironic, mine used me to get back with his ex.”

“Now isn’t that just something.” he offered his hand to me. “Shall we go in?”

“How gentlemanly.” I let out a chuckle.

“Oh I’m Yunho by the way, Jeong Yunho.”

“Oh a James Bond type I see. Last name first.” I chuckled. “Y/n L/n. Sorry I went the other way.”

“Oh god!” they both thought. “It’s you from the museum! What should I do?...stay calm, it’s just a date.”

I never thought I’d thank Wooyoung for setting me up on a date but, I might after this one…he’s so…he’s almost too perfect to be true, he’s interested in what I do, he’s charming, funny, he’s handsome…I..I almost feel like I’m dreaming. I’m pinching myself and not waking up so this has to be real, please be real. If this is a prank Wooyoung I’m never speaking to you again.

“I should warn you beautiful, I’m quite dangerous.” he chuckled

“Oh are you now? Maybe I should’ve brought a bat.”

Time felt forgotten, it passed by so fast but so slow. Before we knew it the restaurant was closing and asking us to leave.

“Oh don’t worry about the bill.” he waved his hand at me reaching for my wallet. “It’s on me tonight.”

“I couldn’t possibly let you-”

“I insist beautiful.” he smiled and handed the waiter his card….A Black Credit Card!??!?! Oh my god.

“Next time is on me.” I said my cheeks were heating up. “A-As long as it’s pizza.” I joked…not really.

“Pizza sounds perfect if you’re there.” he winked. Oh man he is dangerous. “Can I walk you home? Or perhaps drive you?” he beeped his car…his very expensive silver car. A Rolls Royce?

“Oh my god.” I whispered. “What do you do?” I laughed.

“Oh I just inherited a lot of money from my uncle.”

“Oh sure, do you sell organs on the black market?” I nudged him gently.

“Oh no way, blood freaks me out.” he laughed. “I invest.”

“Sure.” I smiled and got in the car.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Oh right.” I gave him my address and we were off. It was bittersweet driving with him, I really didn’t want it to end yet. If this was going to be my only date with Yunho then…I just wanted to feel special for a little while longer. “Um, would you mind if we made a short stop first? It’s just…a really nice night out and I don’t want to…with my roommates and all.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind staying out myself.” he smiled.

“There’s a park just up ahead.” I said bashfully. “We could just…walk around?”

“I like that idea.” he pulled over to the park and before I could even think about opening my door he had sprinted around the car to open it.

“Ever the gentleman.” I stepped out and he offered his arm.

We walked around the park for a little just continuing our conversations from earlier, he shared about his childhood days, some of the stuff he and his brother used to do, his friends and how he met Wooyoung. It was all great until a breeze swept through.

“Here.” he shrugged off his coat and pulled it around me. “Better?” he smiled and his touch on me lingered slightly.

“Better.” I whispered and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” he cleared his throat and pulled back slightly.

It was close to 11pm when we finally decided we had been out long enough, I would hopefully not get hazed about the date and he would hopefully be able to go back to whatever he wanted. Even if it was just one date, it felt like a million and it just felt wonderful.

“Oh your coat.” I started taking it off as we pulled up to my little flat.

“Just give it to me next time Beautiful.” he smiled and put his hand up to stop me.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

I leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek leaving a slight pink imprint there.

“Goodnight Yunho, thank you for the…probably most perfect night of my life listening to me talk about work.” I smiled and got out of the car. I’ll miss him.

“Goodnight Beautiful.” he smiled more to himself as he drove off when she walked in her front door.

Did I receive the interrogation of a lifetime? Yes absolutely.

Could I stop smiling? No..Not at all. He listened to me ramble about work and school and how overwhelming it is, he listened to me talk about different paints and how to preserve them and take care of them like it was the most interesting thing he ever heard. I almost hate him for how perfect he is.

“Jung Wooyoung, I'm going to kill you.” I said as he picked up the phone.

“What?! Why!? What happened!?” he sat up on the other line.

“How could you literally give me that after all the shit dates you’ve set me up on!”

“Was it bad? You guys have been out for hours!”

“No! It was amazing! I can’t believe you!” I groaned and flopped onto my bed. “He was…kind and sweet and charming and caring and…everything and I hate you for it.”

“...BECAUSE I WAS RIGHT???”

“BECAUSE YOU WERE RIGHT!” I sat up. “Why did you have to be right!?”

“Because I’m amazing, excuse you. You liked him.”

“Yes.”

“You liked him a lot?”

“Wooyoung I literally would drop everything right now to just listen to his laugh.” I sighed. “It's pathetic.”

“I’ll let you know what he says, I just heard the front door.”

“No Wooyoung please, it's fine. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” I sighed. “I’ll have to give you his coat too.”

“He gave you his coat? Oh my god. See marriage.”

“Goodnight Woo.”

“I’m the matchmaker god after all.”

“Goodnight! Woo.” I hung up. I hate this.

I hate men.

`Next

#ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #yunho #yunho x y/n #yunho x reader #my writing #Beautiful Stranger #by me

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thepixelelf · 3 months

Note

that daeyeol mystery-solving ghost speaker with the ghost reader that one person made a poster for a while back? i don't remember if you already wrote that but it sounded cool

Ohhhh the fic that came to Bee @runawayfuture in a dream??

warnings: mentions of non specific death and murder

[speaker with the dead] When you go into CardSharp, it's much brighter than you expected. After all, hearing about a place that lets you talk to the dead doesn't exactly evoke images of trendy moss walls and chai lattes.

A combination café and séance business...strange, but you suppose there's a market for anything these days.

There's no one at the counter, but you see a silver service bell and a cutely decorated note next to it that reads, Welcome! Ring the bell to order!

Beneath the plain black ink, though, more words glow in a way you're sure only people like you can see.

To communicate with the living, enter through the door to the right ->

And so you do.

There's no one in this room either, which still isn't really as dark as you'd expect a room expressly for beyond-the-grave communication to be. It looks like a regular old break room. Two small couches with a coffee table in between, and a folding table to the side with an electric kettle plugged into the wall, some paper cups stacked next to it.

From a side door, a tall man enters. His hair is grey, but you suspect it's been dyed that way, since he looks around the same age you are. Were.

He spots you immediately, brows furrowed as he glances between you and the door you just came through.

"I'm sorry," he says calmly, in a please don't take this the wrong way kind of tone. "This room is off-limits to customers."

You cross your arms. "So you really are the real deal."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought those guys were totally yanking my metaphorical chains when they told me about you."

The man's confusion only deepens. "I don't know what you..."

"You're Lee Daeyeol, right?" you ask.

"Yes, but—"

"I heard you can talk to the dead."

He sighs through his nose, seemingly done with you walking in like you own the place. "Yes, I can. That doesn't mean you can just—"

"I didn't believe them at first, but now I do. It's obviously true. You're talking to me." You jut your thumb from your fist to point at yourself. "And I'm dead."

Daeyeol's jaw drops. For a few moments, neither of you speak, and the air is stale with silence.

Then he says, "You don't look dead."

"And you don't look like a shaman." You nod towards his t-shirt and cargo pants. "Why do you look so surprised? Don't ghosts come through here all the time?"

"I don't usually see them. Or hear them, either."

"What?" You cross your arms. "You literally said you can talk to the dead."

He frowns. "I can. Anyone can, there just needs to be a ghost around to listen. They just don't talk back."

"Then how do you know what they're saying?"

"I use cards to— you know what, that's not important." He takes in a deep breath. "How the hell can I see you right now?"

You scoff. "So you're saying you can't normally see ghosts? You've got to be the worst 'seer' in history."

He glares at you, and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. It's not scary, really, but more curious. Like you're something in a petri dish under a microscope.

"Listen," you speak up, making him meet your eyes. "I came here because you apparently help ghosts move on to the afterlife or whatever."

He shrugs. "I try. What's keeping you here?"

"I'm not sure. My memories are foggy."

"That's not very helpful."

You give him a shrug of your own. "Well, I do know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I was murdered."

Daeyeol's mouth drops open once again, and the sight is almost comical enough to make you laugh. And when he finally speaks after another prolonged silence, his words actually do cause you to chuckle.

He slowly closes his mouth before saying, "You don't look murdered."

#for Daeyeol day? lol #i remember an anon telling me that i only write daeyeol fics where reader is dead or dying...lmao #never being the [this] allegations #golden child scenarios #golden child imagines #golcha scenarios #golcha imagines #daeyeol scenarios #daeyeol imagines #lee daeyeol scenarios #lee daeyeol imagines #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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phillippadgettwrites · 1 year

Note

Can you write some drunk/tipsy early encounter? maybe involving a bj

Quarantine

Rated X / 1147 words / Posted on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

She throws back another shot, grimacing as the amber liquid scorches her esophagus. She lost count a few shots back, and her head is swimming, but it doesn’t matter because she’s alive.

She’s alive.

Mulder squeezes one eye shut and peers at her across the small table in his room, though to call it a room is generous. It’s more like a cell, an 8x8 cinder block square with a cardboard mattress and table for one—until she dragged a second chair in from her own room. It’s been fifteen days and they’re only halfway to going home, subjected to daily blood draws to screen for the spores that killed the Firewalker team.

“You ‘kay, Scully?” he slurs, and she grins at him. Beams. Her glassy eyes are nearly squeezed shut by her joy over being here, alive enough to complain about boredom and get drunk to pass the time.

Mulder smiles back, and she feels a swell of affection that she’s too inebriated to tamp down. He’s cute, especially when he smiles, and now it makes her think of him sheepish at her hospital bedside, presenting a thrifted VHS as an unlikely gift.

“What?” he asks, confused and curious, and she hears the words in her mind come out of her mouth, garbled and nearly inaudible over the ringing in her ears.

“You’re cute,” she says matter-of-factly, poking the back of his hand with her index finger.

Mulder laughs so loudly it startles her, then he scoots his chair in further and leans forward, his upper body covering the entire expanse of the puny table. The hot, whiskey-soaked vapor of his breath warms her cheeks, and she feels a flutter of excitement and nervousness in her belly.

“You’re one to talk,” he teases, his eyes shining at her from less than a foot away. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Her eyes widen in slow motion, her reflexes bogged down by booze. Gorgeous. Not cute, not pretty. She’s pitched herself forward and pressed her mouth to his before she even registers what she’s doing.

The table moves, or they do, or some combination of the two. Things clatter against the floor and the walls, obstacles pushed aside in their frenzied effort to get closer. He has to practically fold himself in half to kiss her, and her calves are already burning from holding herself up on her tiptoes, but she finds it surprisingly easy to push him back onto the flimsy twin bed in the corner. She climbs on top of him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and finally discovering just how plush it really is.

He paws at her over her government provided sweat pants and T-shirt, but she wriggles away from him, scooting down. In her periphery, she can see him craning his neck up off the bed, watching her as she grabs the waist of his sweats and tugs it down, along with the boxers he has on underneath.

“Scully,” he says, alarmed, and she looks up at him.

His cock is hovering just beneath her chin, lurching as though reaching for her. She holds Mulder’s eye and licks her lips, waiting. After a beat, he closes his eyes and drops his head back against the mattress.

She takes a good look at him. A patch of wiry, unkempt chestnut curls surrounding a deliciously thick shaft. She knew he was big, that much is obvious even to the untrained eye, but live and up close, it’s quite the sight to behold.

“You have a nice penis, Mulder,” she says thickly, and she hears the beginnings of a chuckle before she runs her tongue up the underside of his shaft and it morphs into a gasp.

She has somewhat of a proclivity towards sucking dick when she’s drunk, she knows this about herself. She keeps her eyes open to ward off the spins, sinking down and back up rhythmically while her hand picks up the slack. The head of his cock bumps over the ridges of her hard palate, then glides across the smooth flesh at the back of her throat as she takes him deeper and deeper. She listens to him groan and mutter obscenities, and a flutter between her thighs tells her that she’ll be soaking wet by the time she’s done. She feels his hands in her hair and she looks up to see him watching, slack-jawed and bleary-eyed. The audience inspires her to double down, her tongue swirling around the head on each upstroke, and without warning a spurt of cum slams against the back of her throat. She startles, caught off guard, and swallows it down, feeling a warm trickle in her nose. She slows as his cock softens in her mouth, finally slipping him out and swiping a finger under her nostrils to find a sheen of semen there.

Mulder’s eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. Asleep. She stands and immediately wavers, touching the surface of the bed to ground herself. Her belly rolls, whiskey and cum and the realization that she just made a terrible mistake churning like cement. She scrambles out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her as hurries to the lavatory.

In the morning, she wakes to a soft rapping at her door. She sits up slowly, swallowing against nausea and a terrible, sour film in her mouth. After making her way gingerly across the small room, she opens the door to find Mulder on the other side, freshly showered and holding a steaming mug of coffee. His smile pulls into a grimace at the sight of her, and she feels both embarrassed and confused.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, chipper. “You doing okay?”

“Never better,” she grumbles, resting her head against the cool metal doorframe. “What the hell happened, Mulder?”

“About three fourths of a bottle of whiskey, based on what’s left in my room,” he explains. “I honestly don’t remember anything after playing a highly competitive game of Slap Jack.”

“I don’t remember anything after dinner,” she replies, eyeing his coffee.

“Here,” he says, holding out his cup. “I’ll make another one. There’s breakfast in the mess hall, whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” she replies, taking the mug and closing the door as he walks away.

She does remember dinner, flashes of a card game. She remembers laughing, a lot of laughing. She doesn’t remember how she got back to her room, but she does recall dreaming. One of many dreams she’s had about Mulder: kissing him, touching him, fucking him. In this one, she was sucking his cock as he groaned above her.

She shakes her head, chastising her own subconscious for the tawdry lens it puts on her and Mulder’s friendship. She makes her way towards the bathroom for a shower, grabbing a tissue on the way out the door to blow her running nose.

#the x files #x files fanfic #xf fic #xf fanfic #smut #dana scully #fox mulder #xfiles

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finerllines · 2 years

Text

milf [dad!au]

a/n: hello this is a speedy blurb that i wrote inspired by all the gifs from ono and that one interaction with the fan who had anne's face on a shirt. this is part of the darcy and dylan universe which you can find on my masterlist linked in my bio. thank you for reading and reblogs and comments always appreciated <3

summary: harry is usually a professional but a fan interaction causes his mind to wander back to the love of his life

wc: 1.6k+

cw: none, just fluff

///

As the spotlight comes on and the cheers from the audience grows louder, Harry takes the opportunity to pose in the middle of the stage as he drinks in the applause. The long awaited One Night Only shows have arrived and he is thrilled to be back on stage finally performing the new songs.

“Good evening, everyone and thank you for choosing to spend your Friday night with me,” he greets. “I hope everyone is having a good time and enjoying the new album,” – he pauses as the crowd screams in response – “and I am very excited to be back on stage performing for all of you.”

After introducing his band (and bothering Mitch), he pulls on the microphone wire and starts walking down the runway, looking out into the crowd, and reading the fan signs. Using his hand to shield his eyes from the lights, he makes out a sign from the back that says, ‘DID YOU SAY GOODNIGHT TO THE TWINS?’ in reference to the voice note from As It Was.

“This person way at the back wants to know if I said goodnight to my twins and unfortunately I haven’t.” When the crowd starts to teasingly boo at him, he puts his hand up and says, “Wait, wait, let me finish. I haven’t said goodnight to them because they are still awake. In fact, they are in here somewhere watching the show. So, thank you to this person for trying to make me look bad at my own show.”

When he turns to walk back onto the stage, he catches what the fan is wearing on the big screen. His eyes shoot open when he realises what is on their shirt, causing him to spin on his heels and march back to where he was.

“I uh, I happened to get a good look at your shirt on the jumbotron.” He strokes his chin as if he were deep in thought, eliciting some giggles. “Now, I have a question for you,” he shoots his hand out and points at the fan, looking them straight in the eye, “why do you have a shirt with my wife’s face on it, and why does it say ‘milf’ in capital letters?”

The arena erupts into a combination of cheers of approval and laughter. With a bowed head, he starts to pace along the runway, shaking his head and tsking into the microphone.

“First, you ask about my children, and now you seem to have the hots for my wife. What is going on?” He leans forward to try and read their lips. “Do I want one? Yes! Of course I want one, it’s a shirt with my wife’s face on it that says milf. Are you trying to steal my family from me? I just wrote a whole album about my wife and kids, and it’ll be a little awkward if you are.”

Happy with the level excitement he managed to evoke, he struts back to his spot on the stage wearing a small self-satisfied grin.

“I apologise to everyone for what just happened. It was very inappropriate because this is a family show.” He pauses for effect. “Or is it? No, no, no, it is. My kids are here so everyone needs to be on their best behaviour, so none of this ‘milf’ business, okay?”

Several encores later, Harry finds himself still reluctant to leave the stage, even though his knitted polo shirt is drenched in sweat and he is basically panting from how much dancing he did. While he exchanges congratulations and hugs with his team, he notices that his wife is missing. So, he gives a little thank you speech to wrap the night up and sends everyone off to celebrate the start of a new era.

The original plan was to meet y/n in the green room and transfer the twins into their cots in the hotel, before joining the rest of the crew in the bar that was rented for the night. But after speaking with the fan with the t-shirt, all he could think about for the rest of the show was his family.

While rehearsing the album, he constantly told himself that he cannot think about his family when performing. Because the songs were already so special and personal to him, reliving those moments in his head would either make him too sentimental or make him more distracted than he would like to be on stage. But tonight, he couldn’t help but keep looking at y/n, wanting to just sing the songs to her.

He peaks his head round the greenroom door and his face relaxes into an easy grin when he spots her. y/n’s eyes light up and she immediately hurries to wrap her husband in a tight hug. With her head tucked snugly between his pecs, she squeals in excitement, rocking the both of them back and forth.

“I’m so proud of you, H! You looked amazing, you sounded amazing, and the babies didn’t stop watching you the whole time.”

Pressing their bodies even closer together, Harry lets their breaths sync up as he rests his cheek on the top of her head, letting the feeling of his wife tucked against his bring him back down to earth.

He loosens his hold a little to allow him to pull back and catch her lips in a soft and slow kiss, only breaking apart to take in a quick breath before kissing her a little harder, putting more of his weight into the kiss. Before they can get too carried away, y/n places her hand onto his chest to gently push him back.

“You okay?” she asks teasingly. “You normally only get like this after the after party, or at least after the twins are tucked in.”

His lips quirk up to match her smirk. He squeezes her hand that’s on his chest, stroking it languidly with his thumb.

“Wrong, I’m always like this, especially after a show. Usually, I do a better job at willing my hard on away but today I decided to give into it.” His smirk grows bigger as his he drags her hand down his body to rest on where he needs her most.

When she realises what she is feeling, she snatches her hand away and smacks his chest in mock offense. “Harold, that is inappropriate. Once you are done being a horny teenage boy you can help me carry your children to the car.”

It’s nights like this that reminds y/n why she gave everything up to become a full-time mum. Deciding date and marry Harry was not easy. She didn’t know if love would be enough to keep her happy and fulfilled. She didn’t know if she would end up trailing behind her husband with an armful of kids, hating herself for throwing away her career in marketing for a man. But Harry never gave her ultimatum or set conditions around their relationship. He is her biggest supporter, ready to encourage her to start working again or simply start a new hobby, and has never been shy with expression his gratitude and appreciation for all that she has sacrificed just to be with him.

If Harry was anyone else, y/n is sure that she should small and useless. How could you not when your husband is constantly breaking records and outdoing himself. But when he sincerely tries to involve you in every step and genuinely loves coming home to you, it’s easy to feel confident in your marriage and the life you have chosen.

After changing out of his stage outfit, Harry pats himself dry with a towel then helps pack up the greenroom. Everyone along the corridors makes way for the young couple, watching as they walk one in front of the other with a baby strapped to each of their chests and armfuls of bags.

It’s only when they are both tucked into bed themselves that y/n remembers what a momentous night it was. She sits up suddenly, disturbing Harry who had his chin resting over her shoulder.

“Don’t you have an afterparty to celebrate the first show?” she asks with a bit of panic behind her words.

He goes to pull her back into his arms. “We have a bar booked for tonight but I told everyone to go ahead.”

“Why? I’m sure they all miss you.”

“There will be other parties. And after speaking to that fan who had your face on their shirt, all I could think about is you. Not even thinking about having sex with you, even though you know I am always open to it, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. Everyone wants you, but I’m the only one who has you,” he finishes smugly.

Her eyes roll. “Please, you’re the one who has arenas full of people on the brink of fainting every time you look at them.”

“Did you miss the part of show where a fan called you a milf? Also, everyone basically started chanting your name when I brought you up.”

“Hmm, I guess it does feel nice to know that your fans like me” – she pauses for effect – “and to know that I’m still fuckable.”

“Hey, I tell you you’re fuckable all the time. I tried to tell you in the dressing room but you said no.”

She slides down his body slightly so that she can rest her head on his chest and hitch her leg over his hips, locking him in for the night.

“If you’re on your best behaviour tonight I might be open to being reminded again tomorrow morning,” she mumbles, the exhaustion of the day catching up to her.

Harry adjusts himself to fit against the curve of y/n’s body. “I’ll remember that. Goodnight, my love.”

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x reader

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mrcohen2001 · 1 year

Text

One of the most memorable blowjobs I have ever received from my wife ended with both of us climaxing at the same time. It was a nice evening and my wife and I were sitting in our upstairs balcony enjoying the cool night air. We were living in an upstairs apartment at the corner of our building and our balcony afforded us some wonderful privacy.

We were enjoying some music while smoking marijuana when after a while my wife got up to look at the night sky. As she leaned over the balcony wall I was greeted with an amazing sight. She was only in panties and a T-shirt which meant I was catching a view of her amazing ass. The combination of the weed, music, fidget butt, and the general feel of the environment began to cause my manhood to swell in my pants. With so much positive stimulation how could someone not get aroused?

After enjoying the scenery a minute longer I decided to get up and join my sexy girl at the balcony wall. As she looked up at the moon, my fingers wrapped in her hair and I pulled her head gently to the side. My body pressed into the back of her’s and I lowered my lips onto the nape of her neck. Between kisses and licks I told her how amazingly sexy she is and other little niceties into her soft skin. Her skin on mine adds the tactile sense to the already mind-blowing array of stimulation my body is going through and makes my penis throb all the harder in my pants. I suddenly begin to feel pressure gliding up and down the length of my cock, and I know it is fidget’s little hand rubbing it.

She continues stroking my cock through my pants as I turn her around to face me. The most stunning brown eyes look up hungrily at me as a mischievous little smirk sets on her face.

“I really should do something about this.”, she says as she expertly undoes my belt, unzips my fly and unfastens my button. The next second my cock is poking out through the opening in my briefs. She softly traces the sides of my shaft with a finger as she bends her knees bringing her face in line with my lap. Her smile widens and her tongue settles on the other side of my head before asking “I’m a hungry girl, do you have something you can feed me?” My hand had never stopped being tangled in her hair and I used the grip to guide her head forward, my dick slipping into her warm, wet mouth.

Now one of the most amazing things about my wife is that she enjoys giving head. The joke about why the bride smiles as she walks down the aisle thankfully does not apply to me. When she is on her knees sucking cock she isn’t just using her mouth, her whole body gets involved. Her chest sways forward and back as if she’s getting railed from behind as she pushes her mouth further down on my throbbing hard on. She’s not above making it a loud experience either. The gagging sounds of her trying to throat my cock are abundant and only add more to the erotic scene.

After five minutes of this worshipful treatment, my cock is thoroughly drenched in her spit. I lovingly wipe her slime over her face, making an absolute mess before pushing her head lower, placing her mouth on my balls. My hand glides smoothly up and down my shaft with those delicious squishing sounds as her tongue rolls over my balls and the sensitive area between them and my ass. When my cock dries of its lube I use her hair to pull her back so I can access her sweet little facecunt.

When I am ready to cum there is nothing I enjoy more Thant give a good face fucking. I began to pump my hips at her face as my climax roiled in my loins. Her spit was running out of her mouth, and making a large wet spot on her shirt as I used her face for my pleasure. I am not quiet when I cum so I begin breathing and grunting heavily as my load begins to erupt into my wife’s talented mouth. As I continue to ejaculate I suddenly hear this noise, as if a cup of water had been spilt onto the floor. My fidget had squirted in her panties as she enthusiastically swallowed every drop of my seed; the even hotter part of that happening was that she hadn’t even been touching herself.

Thinking back on this experience always starts a state of arousal. Even as I wrote this I found myself needing to adjust myself in my pants. Nowadays I am blessed with the ability to tantric orgasm and this memory is one I use to spark them. It was an experience I loved creating with my wife. This was our design.

#bl0wjob #facefucked

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chalkysgarbagefire · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4 sneak peak

1983 // 17

Summer was upon them and their tiny tin can of a trailer offered little reprieve from the heat. Wayne at least had the luxury of being asleep during the heat of the day (though for good sleep it did not make), but Eddie was left to his lonesome to sweat it out.

At first Eddie stuck to his guns, claiming that no self-respecting metalhead (because that was a thing now) would dare be caught in a pair of cutoff shorts. So he continued to wear his black pants and his dark t-shirts, defiant and dripping with sweat. As the season wore on though, it too wore on his convictions.

The kid was miserable.

Now that the school year had wrapped up, there weren’t many places for Eddie to find a reprieve from the heat (the fact that the school had a decent air conditioner was its only redeeming quality, apparently). Without a set of wheels he was forced to leg it (because Wayne had given him a stern lecture on hitch-hiking), wait on Wayne, or pray that one of his friends got their learners permits.

By the second week of June it became increasingly apparent that none of those were realistic options for either of them. Summer vacation had barely begun for the kid, and he was driving Wayne up the wall.

Eddie skulked around the trailer carrying an electric fan from room to room. If he was going to laze about on the sofa, the fan would get plugged in, until he ultimately went back to his room where the fan would follow. It was like watching a sticky ping-pong bounce off the walls. The only time Wayne had a shot at using the fan was when he slept--which that had been an argument in its own right.

(Ultimately it was decided that as the resident bread winner, it was more important that Wayne be well rested. Sleep deprivation and heavy machinery was a lethal combination.

Of course, it hadn’t stopped his nephew from giving him shit. Eddie has simply laid both of his clammy hands on his shoulders, and looked at him dead in the eyes, face somber. “Of course, Wayne. You need all the beauty sleep you can get--that hairline isn’t getting any thicker.”

If Wayne had matched his energy, clapping a solemn hand on his shoulder and gravely exhaled, “Son. I don’t know how to tell you this but…male pattern baldness is hereditary” just to watch the light go out of his eyes? Well, no one could claim he didn’t have a sense of humor.

“You can’t just say shit like that, you’re practically cursed me to an eternity of sunburns and ugly hats, man!”)

Perhaps it was a combination of their shared torture, the put-upon sighs, and the fact Eddie had broken down and taken scissors to his wardrobe, that made Wayne crumble.

Once Eddie had moved in, and it was apparent he was there to stay, Wayne started a nest-egg. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to buy a shoddy van for a questionably low price. Apparently the idiot who sold it to him didn’t know Wayne had been a mechanic in his heyday and knew exactly what the shit on wheels was worth. It’d certainly worked in his favor, seeing as how he was able to shame Rick into lowering the price. Served him right, too.

The van had been in his possession all of two hours before Eddie started getting curious, nosy.

“So, what’s with the scrap heap in the front?” Eddie picked at his cuticles, aiming for cool and unaffected. The way he kept bouncing his gaze from Wayne and the van, however, screamed otherwise.

“Oh that?” Wayne didn’t even bother to look up, pretending to be more focused on the washing up (two could play this game, Eddie). “Just a project. Figured I could use an extra set of hands. Make you earn your keep.” He bumped his hip against his nephew’s teasing. After their “Emotional Showdown of 82” as Eddie has been calling it (because of course he would), he’s tried to be more tactile and hands on. Even if it went against his nature, he was still an old dog capable of learning new tricks.

#He Aint Heavy #eddie munson #wayne munson #wayne munson is a good uncle #chalky writes #stranger things fanfic #stranger things season 4 #kid eddie munson #found family #see! look! I live!#proof of life!#but seriously #you guys have been so incredibly sweet and tbh it really is pushing me to try and work through my funk and work on this more #kisses on all your foreheads <3

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itsoutrageouss · 2 years

Note

Yo, I don’t have any ideas exactly so I’ll give you creative freedom but we need more needy Elliot bro-

You can do it - elliot

Pairing: elliot x reader

Summary: just elli being needy and horny so you overstimulate the pretty fucker

Warnings: sub!elliot, overstimulation, blowjob, all kinds of grinding, sensitive baby elli <3

Words: 1k

A/N: Yoo you are so right! Combined this and another ask for overstimulated elli, hope u like.

——🕊

“Tell me what you want, pretty boy,” your lips are a whisper over his, ghosting over his jaw before smoothing over the skin of his neck. He gulps, audibly as his hands find your hips, squeezing onto the softness of your thighs where they straddle his. There isn’t much room in the backseat of his car, but the discomfort is the least of his or your concerns right now. You feel him underneath you, beneath his jeans where he’s growing harder and harder with each pass of your hips over his. The rain is drumming onto the roof of the car, droplets covering the entirety of each window.

You have decided to wait out the rain in his car until you can get inside the house without getting soaked. As you were sitting, listening to the soft thud of rain, Elliot had been all over you in an instant.

It was like he had been waiting for the sole moment all day and he seemed so fucking pent up, so desperate for you to touch him- for him to touch you.

You pulled him into the backseat, and here you were. Elliot’s moans and pants are left feverishly in the air as his hips stutter against yours. His hands never rest, roaming over your neck, breasts, ass, hips, thighs and back up again. “I want-,” you grind harshly against him and Elliot shivers as he moans, “I want-“ you do it again and he’s positive he’s about to cum in his pants. His eyes are wide and pleading as you look at him, glassy with the need to cum.

You gently bite into his plumb lower lip, tasting him with the swipe of your tongue. “Looks like we can go inside,” you chirp, the heat of your body gone from his in a moment. He whimpers at the way you’re leaving him high and dry, eyes following the sway of your hips as you walk to his front door. He sits, catching his breath before eagerly following you inside.

— 🕊

You push him onto the bed, and your hands find the smooth skin of his stomach under his t-shirt- encouraging him to take it off. He complies instantly, in this moment he’d do anything you asked.

You go to lock the door to his room but freeze when you hear him let out a high-pitched moan. Turning around, you see him already with his dick in hand, getting himself off. His mouth is agape, his breathing harsh and nearly his entire body is convulsing with pleasure.

His strokes are fast and short like he doesn’t have time for anything else, like he’s just about to cum.

“No no, baby,” you whisper, pulling his hand away from his dick. He gasps as the tip hits his stomach, flushed dark and throbbing.

“Ngh- fuck,” he groans, straining against your hold.

“You wanna cum?” You ask with a gentle tone, batting your eyelashes up at him. You’ve sat yourself in front of the bed, between his thighs that you’re stroking now. He only nods, mouth still open, eyes round and nearly red-rimmed.

Without another word you lower your mouth onto him, taking as much of his dick between your lips as you can. Your tongue glides along the prominent vein, and you suck harshly on him as you pull back up. He doesn’t say anything, his throat tying into knots at how good it feels to finally have you. You do it again and again until you focus only on his tip. Short, breathy moans are the only sounds he can make, his hips shooting up to feel more of you. He’s reckless, not even knowing what he’s doing, barely sitting up right anymore.

He cums hard. There’s no warning, only the choked up sound he makes. His hands are in your hair as he bucks up into you with abandon, trying to give you as much of him as he can. It goes on for a long time until he goes completely lax. His eyes are squeezed tight, hands limb at his sides.

You aren’t done yet, though- you’re reminded by the pulsing ache between your thighs, still left untouched. As he lies, trying to calm down his breathing, you strip completely naked.

The bed dips as you place yourself like you did in the car, straddling his thighs. Elliot twitches when he feels your warm folds pressed to his dick, trapping it between you and his stomach. He’s still so sensitive, so his back arches and shudders at the stimulation.

“Please,” he whispers, craning his neck up to look at you- face completely dazed. “You said you wanted to cum right?” You ask teasingly, dragging your wetness up and down the underside of his dick. The head catches just right on your clit, making you press down harder.

“I- I can’t” he nearly whines out his response, holding onto your waist now like it’s a life line. He tries to sit up but you keep grinding onto him, and it’s too much but also so good and wet; he feels like he’s going mad.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he mutters, looking up at the ceiling while trying to take in all the sensations you’re feeding him.

“Yes you can, baby,” you coo, grinding faster, all the way from the base to the tip. Your own orgasm is tingling at the bottom of your spine, and you grind faster, the place where your bodies meet growing wetter and wetter to the point where it drips down to his stomach- his stomach which is clenching in pleasure now as you feel him harden again, twitching and throbbing almost painfully.

He shouts your name, desperately, but it comes out slurred and erupts into a moan as he cums again, faster than expected. It coats his chest, and the sight of him so disshelved and fallen apart makes you cum too, arching into it and holding onto his thighs for support.

There’s a single tear down his temple as he sniffles, chest rattling with each breath.

“You okay, Elli?” You ask softly, removing yourself from him and leaning over. Your thumb strokes away the tear, running down his nose and over his swollen lips.

“Yeah” he mutters before smiling at you with a huff- like he can’t believe what just happened.

“You did so good” you say into his hair, giving a million kisses into the curls. He snickers, “the things you do to me,” he shakes his head, amazed at how you can work him up so much- like no one else.

——🕊

Elliot taglist:

@apricxtt @twicepoppers @jazzmin-foster @suxmyladyb0ner @haleyvoegele @zeniy4h @whore4dominic @thecoquettediaries @heyhowareyousstuff @ngc1398 @maddyscherryrollingpapers @karinababyyyy @daybabyyyyy @pollamayor2301 @s1114 @honkquackity @4lyssasworld @funkypigeondotcom1 @clorice @xzaviaaaa @fezcosweed @shayleezoecur @rafelover2405 @sailoormooonnn @csecane714 @quinnayen @ellyskey @symmm @loveilovetoo @chanelvalentina @youguysoozechemistry @sslut4hangee @gl0cklust @soobiezoobiezzz @ehhehd @renjiminaj @cupcakebrisblog @gbcslut @ffokucf @fishfungus @fanboychumchum4 @yjunrecords @dumb-bitch-that-ships21 @1weirdbish @empirerecords @bausslut @ilovecatsomuchsstuff

#elliot #elliot euphoria #elliot smut #euphoria #euphoria smut #dominic fike #elliot imagines #dominic fike smut #elliot euphoria smut #elliot smut euphoria #Elliot fanfiction #Elliot fanfic #Dominic fike imagine #euphoria fanfiction

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Text

Minor Cooking Accident

Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, anniversary, fluff, making out, rough sex, kitchen sex, table sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial, bareback, finger sucking

Word count: 1.8k

Ao3

A/N: I don't know why this scenario got stuck in my brain but here it is for all of you to read.

You hum a tune to yourself as you glide across the kitchen floor, dressed only in one of Marc's shirts and your underwear, careful not to make too much noise. Marc is still asleep, and on any other day you'd be happy to cuddle with him until he wakes up, but today is your one year anniversary so you want to surprise him with breakfast in bed.

You hear the quick tapping of bare feet, followed by a pair of muscular arms wrapping around your stomach and pulling you back into an equally muscular chest.

"You're up a little early. Good morning Marc." You look at him for a moment, taking in his still slightly sleepy face as he leans his chin on your shoulder.

"Why weren't you in bed?" His voice was still rough with sleep, which combined with the fact that he currently had an erection, made your mind wonder to places other than food.

You gulp, trying to calm down before you burn down the kitchen, "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. Thought it'd be a good way to start the day no?"

Marc hummed, briefly eyeing the said breakfast, "It is the most important meal of the day." He pulled your shirt down your shoulder kissed your skin, his tongue very briefly licking a hickey he left the night before. A shiver runs down your spine, a smile presses against your skin, Marc knowing full well the effect he has on you. When he pulls away you almost find yourself asking him to come back, "Melted chocolate?" There's a pause before you hear a an exaggerated, wet pop, "Delicious."

"T-Thank you, Marc, but it's just melted chocolate. Nothing special." You blush despite that. Marc finds a way to make you happy about the simplest of things.

"You made it for me. So I have to disagree." His voice is closer again, the heat of his body back behind you, "Here, try some." You don't even have time to turn around before two chocolate covered fingers push into your mouth. You yelp in surprise for a moment before the taste of chocolate hits your tongue and your lips close around Marc's fingers.

Marc chuckles behind you, his hips pinning you against the edge of the stove, the outline of his cock clearly defined in his pants and rubbing up against you.

"See? Didn't I say it was good?" He pulls his fingers out half-way before plunging them back in. He does this again and again stifling your moans just as they leave your mouth. "You know, I was in a mood for breakfast as well. But my food just got up and left. A bit rude don't you think?" His hips jolt into yours as he whispers in your ear, his voice low and dangerous, a wave of pleasure already pooling below.

He wastes no time showing his hand into your underwear, his fingers rolling over the little bundle of nerves, making you moan louder, his bucking back into his for as much as his body would allow.

His lips find the same hickey from list night, sucking and licking at the still bruised skin.

"Well?" His fingers leave your mouth, sliding down your side, his fingers still working on your clit.

"It-It's good." Your breath hitches as you barely get the words out past your moans. You hear his slide his boxers down, hear him sigh in relief at his cock spring free. "We can't. I'm still... fuck... making food." You try to sound firm but it falls flat against your whimpers, your hips bucking against Marc's cock and fingers.

"I can make it quick." He can. You know he can make it quick and make it good. You bite your lower lip, your head already swimming with lust and pleasure as you feel his bare cock sliding against your ass. You nod.

As soon as you do so you're pulled back by him, guided to the kitchen table and pushing you down on your back with a little thud. It doesn't hurt but Marc isn't exactly being gentle either.

He kicked his boxers to the side and positioned himself between your thighs in quick motions, his hands running up your thighs, his touch making your skin burn with need. He eyed your panties, hands shaking, fighting the urge to tear them apart. But he didn't, you knew how much he liked this particular pair. Instead he carefully, almost too carefully, slid then down your legs, letting them fall beside his feet.

His eyes darkened as he looked at your glistening folds. You watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, hungry for you. Marc always loved going down on you, but he promised to make this quick, and Marc going down on you is never quick. You spread your legs wider for him and his eyes darken even more, now clouded completely with lust.

One finger runs from your entrance, gathering the wetness there, and to your clit, pressing slow, deliberate circles around it.

"You're so wet for me babe." He takes his cock in his hand, running it up and down quickly, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip, "Love seeing you like this. You have no idea." He smirks at you, inching closer and closer until you feel the tip of his cock at your entrance.

"Oh I think I have some idea." You quip back, smiling briefly before your mouth falls open in a strained moan at the feeling of Marc's cock sliding in. He went slow but didn't stop until he completely bottomed out, his body shaking along with yours. His with the need to move but forcing himself to be still, and your with the feeling of your cunt being completely filled by the length of his cock.

Your hands gripped the edge of the table, you needed to hold onto something but you didn't want to limit Marc's movements. You squeeze your walls around him and nod, letting him know it's ok to move now. Marc cocks his head to the side for a moment, as if pondering if he should do it or not.

Oh how he loved to tease you, leaving you needy and wet and begging for him. He smirked when you let out a whimper, your hips rolling up and back into his cock. "Marc..." You intended it to be a warning but it came out as a needy, desperate plea.

He chuckled, "Don't worry love. I'm gonna take good care of you today. All day." He pulled back until only the tip of his cock was left inside, your cunt already missing the wonderful stretch of his cock, but luckily not for long as he slid right back in, slowly at first, then a little faster, and faster, rougher, harder every time.

Marc's hands gripped your hips, his thumbs smoothing over your hips bones, a contrast of the grip he currently had on you. You were sure he was gonna leave marks there. Not that you mind, you never mind when he marks you.

"I'm gonna do this all day, you hear. Gonna fuck you nice and deep babe." He bottomed out at every thrust, "Until you can't stand anymore. And I'm still gonna fuck you. Pin you... fuck... to the bed, the wall... shit you're so tight... have my way with you... give you my cock over and over... fill you up..."

"Fuck... please do..." The thought of having his cock inside you all day, of Marc pleasuring you over and over, hearing him, feeling him, tasting him, it sends your mind into overdrive. "More... Marc... you feel so fucking good... please..."

"Good girl. That's what I like to hear. Telling me... how good I'm fucking you." You can't hold back your moans anymore, the sound filling the room, along with the slick and slapping sound of Marc pounding his cock into you.

His hand moved back to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit, pressing and circling in tandem with his thrusts. You let out a high pitched whimper, walls tightening around him.

"Not yet love. Not yet. Wait for me." You bite your bottom lip, your walls clenching tighter around him, "Fuck." Marc grunts, doubling his efforts both with his thrusts and on your clit, his dick already pulsing and hot with need, "I'm gonna fill you up sweetheart. You ready? You want it?" You nod eagerly, "Let's do it together. Come around my cock." His voice is gruff and commanding.

And you unable to refuse do just as he says. You feel your orgasm hit hard, mind going blank, only aware of your pleasure, Marc, his cock and his warm seed spilling inside you as your walls flutter around him. Marc moans your name over and over, his movements turning slightly sluggish as he fucks his cum into you, telling you how good you feel, telling you to take it all.

As both your orgasms begin to fade Marc almost collapses on top of you, holding himself up with shaky arms and breathing in deep.

Your breathing slowly evens out, eyes finally opening and looking at him. His hair sticks to his forehead, a layer of sweat on his body, giving his muscles a shine. He dips his head down, capturing your lips in a brief kiss before he starts to pull out. Both of you hiss once his cock slips out, followed by the drip of your combined orgasms.

You lean on your elbows, eyes traveling down to his still hard cock, now wet with his and your cum combined. You almost want to lick it all up. But there's a voice at the back of your head, telling you that you're forgetting something. You smell it before you remember, and so does Marc.

"Pancakes! Shit!" You try to stand up but you fall forward, Marc catching you as you struggle to get your bearings on your wobbly legs.

"I got it." Marc leans you back on the table and goes to turn the stove off, "But these are burned." He says nonchalantly and shrugs. "Ups."

He smirks as he looks back at you, your arms now crossed over your chest, making your nipples peak through his shirt. Marc's eyes glaze over again. "Marc! No! We need to eat." Then his eyes travel lower, to your pussy, still wet and looking so inviting. You make a grumbling sound and narrow your eyes at him, but can't help the blush that spreads across your face or the way your pussy throbs with a renewed need for his cock. "Food first."

"Fine." Marc rolls his eyes and walks over to you. He cups your cheeks with rough, but gentle hands and kisses you, "We can make the pancakes together this time, ok?" He smiles at you, eyes shining.

You smile back, "Ok. I can't stay mad at you for long anyway." You lean in for another kiss. "Let's make breakfast then."

"Then time for dessert?" His eyes lower again. "Pretty please?"

"And I'm the needy one." You chuckle as you lead him back to the stove getting started on another batch of pancakes.

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight smut #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant x reader

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